


Star Light, Star Bright, First Star I See Tonight

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Explicit Language, Heavy Angst, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9844910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: A decision to work late into the night at the office has devastating consequences for Merlin, but even the darkest hour has a dawn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Notes:** Thank you to the amazing Wayward Halos. I am fortunate to have found such a wonderful beta that is so very thorough with their suggestions and explanations.

It was late. Much too late to still be at work on a Wednesday night, but Merlin had a deadline to meet, and come hell or high water he was going to meet it. He’d missed the last one by ten minutes and continued to hear about that epic failure from his arse of a boss every single day.

It was a wonder Merlin hadn’t been fired.

Well, if Morgana was to be believed, Merlin’s boss had a thing for Merlin, and that was why he continued to—as Morgana had so _eloquently_ put it— _put up with Merlin’s insolence_. Such nonsense seemed preposterous to Merlin for many reasons, one being that Morgana, who was the Pendragon Enterprises CEO’s daughter, had a wicked sense of humor, one which Merlin suspected no one felt more keenly than Arthur Pendragon, Morgana’s younger half-brother and Merlin’s boss.

Merlin let out a laugh at the absurd thought of Arthur Pendragon having a thing for his _addle-brained personal assistant who was pants at deadlines and even worse when it came to making coffee and tea_ (his boss’s words). And even if Arthur did have a thing for Merlin, who cared? Merlin certainly didn’t (really, he didn’t, even if his boss featured in his kinky dreams on a regular basis). The future CEO of Pendragon Enterprises might look the part of someone Merlin wouldn’t mind being in a relationship with, but he represented the elite of society and it was obvious that the spoiled Arthur had never, or rarely, been told no. Merlin’s world was vastly different. He had always worked for everything he’d ever received in life. Arthur’s world was foreign to Merlin.

Not to mention the fact that Uther Pendragon’s son was a carbon copy of his father: vile, rude, condescending, mean, hurtful, entitled, spoiled, pompous, supercilious, and the list went on and on. And as if those things were not in themselves enough to turn Merlin off (which they _were_ , he kept reminding himself), Arthur was supposedly engaged to Gwen Smith, one of those society girls who once-upon-a-time would have been presented at court with a feather in her hair and the crème de la crème of society awaiting her every move.

Gwen lived in Europe at the moment (her posh flat in Camelot had been a frequent destination for Merlin when he’d first began working for Arthur), working on, interestingly enough, the project that Merlin was staying late to finish up.

Arthur had been to see her a few months back and she had come to see him the following month. She hadn’t been back recently, which was somewhat odd, but as the project was nearing its completion, Merlin figured she was busy.

The alarm on Merlin’s phone – The whooshing sound from the TARDIS—went off, alerting him that he had ten minutes left to get the packet sent on time. It would be close, but Merlin knew that this time he would make it and Arthur would have no reason to make his familiar snide remarks the following day. This fact cheered Merlin far more than it probably should, although he wasn’t at all sure why because when had Arthur ever needed a reason to give Merlin a hard time? Still, the idea that he would get the packet sent to where it needed to go before the deadline made Merlin gleeful.

He began typing and found that the last few sentences were flowing out of his fingers, and this bolstered the exhausted Merlin and gave him that little extra bit of energy he needed to finish. His job was stressful on so many levels and he struggled at times to keep up, but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Perhaps it was because at long last, he had found his calling. Arthur’s secretary, Catrina, had voiced her doubts that Merlin was the right one to be Arthur’s assistant, but Arthur had gone out on a limb and requested him specifically, even though Merlin had not been at all qualified.

Before working for Arthur, Uther had put Merlin with two others, trying to find a place where he, someone who didn’t have much experience but whose mother was a good friend of Uther’s, fit in and produced what was needed.

His first assignment had been with Agravaine De—something that Merlin couldn’t remember. Two months with that horrid man had been all Merlin could stand. After practically begging to be moved, he’d been transferred to some bloke named Percival’s office. They had worked well together, perhaps too well (according to the rumour mill). Merlin was unclear on why exactly he had been moved again, but he had and, oddly enough, Percival no longer worked for Pendragon Enterprises after Merlin’s transfer.

The move to working for Arthur had nearly been the last straw for Merlin and he had almost quit after that first day, but he’d needed the job so he had stayed on, assured by his mother’s unwavering faith in him.

His mother had always been Merlin’s champion and he couldn’t imagine life without her. Fortunately for him, she’d recently moved to Camelot to be closer to her son.

He looked at the time on the screen and grinned. As soon as he sent the file he’d call her.

A loud knock, but not on his door, had Merlin on high alert. He was, as far as he knew, the only one in the building. Margie, the night cleaning lady, had left a quarter hour earlier. Merlin had seen her out and wished her a good night before making sure he was locked in.

At almost any other hour of the day, anyone who had left the building and returned could have entered using their code, but at this time of day, when the code had been reset, the only two who could have entered were Arthur or his father, who were both away at a conference and were due back overnight. There was the possibility it was Arthur, but Merlin doubted that very much. It wasn’t like him to step foot into his office past six in the evening. He was a classic workaholic, but he preferred to work from home outside of regular business hours.

Merlin swallowed and continued to type. He had a deadline to meet. He was most likely hearing things; he was apt to do that, after all. Arthur was forever telling him that he was afraid of his own shadow, and it was true that Merlin was spooked ever so easily, especially over the past few days because of that Cenred bloke whom he’d met at the pub.

Merlin’s fingers continued to fly across the computer as his mind wandered back to Friday night….

After a long week of working on the Lot account with a grumpy Arthur, Merlin had thought a night at the pub was in order, and for most of that night it had been just the thing he’d needed.

He’d even met someone—Cenred King—and they had got on well, or at least well enough to have a few pints, a kiss, and a grope or two or three. Merlin had wanted more and very nearly gave in to the request to join the other in the loo, but there’d been something holding him back. Merlin had tried to push it to the back of his mind because he’d been horny as hell and wanted someone to blow him and make him forget about all his problems, but whatever it was that held him back wouldn’t leave him be and Merlin had deferred to his intuition, which was almost never wrong.

Cenred hadn’t been happy at being refused but the two had left on good terms with the hope of meeting up within the next few days and finishing what they’d started. Merlin had walked home with a smile on his face, thinking about the eventual meetup.

But the following day, at an impromptu meeting at the office, Merlin was told some things about the Cenred bloke that gave him pause (according to Arthur, Cenred, whose father had done some business with Arthur’s father, had been convicted of murder but had been let out of prison on a technicality only after serving one year), and he decided he didn’t want anything to do with him.

Unfortunately, he’d given Cenred his number, and of course Cenred had called almost as soon as Merlin returned home that afternoon. Merlin had given him the excuse about having to meet his family, which hadn’t been at all hard to do as it was the truth that he was meeting his mother for supper, but the excuses became more difficult the following three days, and Merlin had begun to get nervous when Cenred hadn’t taken the hint.

The last phone call had been ominous, with Cenred telling Merlin that he should take what he could get because no one else would want him, especially not his rich boss, Arthur. And as if that were not enough, he had told Merlin to watch his back because he didn’t like teases.

Merlin swallowed as the memories continued to play through his mind. Was it Cenred in the building? More than likely, it wasn’t. In fact, the noise Merlin heard probably wasn’t even caused by a person. But, if it was, and if that person were Cenred, Merlin shuddered to think what the outcome would be.

Concentrating on his computer screen, Merlin forced himself to calm down. He needed to finish what he was doing. His boss had given him another chance after missing his last deadline, but Merlin didn’t think Arthur would be so forgiving this time.

Whatever made that noise had probably been something innocuous, such as a picture frame that had fallen off the wall or the refrigerator in the staff room that had a habit of making really loud noises at all hours of the day. In fact, hadn’t it made one such noise just the other day, and hadn’t Merlin physically jumped up out of his seat as he and Arthur were in the middle of a conference call?

Merlin relaxed a bit as he let out a chuckle and rolled his eyes. He needed to buck up. This was all in his mind. He was thirty-one, not ten.

There was another knock, this one on his door, and it was loud. Then another. And another. Each successive one was louder than the last.

Merlin began to tremble. So much for his rampant imagination. 

He closed his eyes as fear travelled through him like a surge of electricity.

“Merlin, I’m here, and I know you are as well. I watched you lock the door behind the cleaning lady,” barked out a deep familiar voice that Merlin had hoped to never hear again.

Cenred.

Along with his trembling, Merlin began to panic. It had been okay to tell himself earlier not to panic—he hadn’t known there was an actual threat—but now he was very much aware of how real the danger was. This was about as bad as bad got.

Why hadn’t he listened to Arthur? Hadn’t he said that Merlin should probably go home early this week and keep a low profile for the next few days until Cenred had gotten the message and moved on? Merlin saw the merit in those words now, but it was too late.

As his panic continued to rise, Merlin looked around the room for a way to escape. There wasn’t one that he could see or think of, but he had to keep his wits about him; he couldn’t afford to lose control. His panic attacks were notorious for getting him put in hospital. Now was not the time to lose it, but knowing that and that being the case were two entirely different things. Merlin’s entire body was frozen in place. He couldn’t move. But even if he could, there was nowhere to go. There was no escape.

Somehow he did gain control of his body and managed to open his e-mail program. With shaking hands, he sent off an e-mail and a text to Arthur with one word in the body: _HELP_! (He thought about sending off the same to Gwaine, but remembered that Gwaine and Leon had gone on holiday to Spain), and all he could hope for was that just maybe Arthur’s plane had landed and he would get the message and send someone for him. It was a longshot but it was all he had, wasn’t it?

“Merlin, you should let me in. You know I’ll get in one way or another,” and those words were followed by something loud hitting the door.

Merlin thought he should do something, but what? He stared at his computer screen, looking at the words through blurry eyes as tears began to fall down his face. He needed to finish this project, but there was no way he could type another word. He was petrified. 

If he lived to see tomorrow, he would worry about his missed deadline then.

Another loud crash and Merlin saw the tip of something breaking through the door. He swallowed and looked towards the window. He was on the fifth floor. Not too far up, but far up enough that he would likely kill himself trying to get down.

Should he say anything? Perhaps he could talk Cenred down and persuade him to leave.

Or not. Merlin decided to keep quiet. His chances of escaping without bodily harm were slim to none, but just maybe Cenred would think no one was in and leave.

“Merlin! You fucker, let me in _now_. You play the wanton tease so well, but I’m here to collect. Teases are highly overrated.”

Cenred was pissed out of his mind and Merlin wondered how much the other had had to drink. Too much, at any rate.

Merlin stood and went to the back of the room where the cupboard was, deciding to hide there for as long as he could, but as he was closing the door, the door to his office opened and Cenred was staring at him, a sick grin on his face, a large axe by his side.

All Merlin could do was stare back. Cenred was dressed all in black and the axe in his right hand was swinging back and forth. He was sneering at Merlin before he let out a laugh that went through Merlin like a shard of ice.

There was no hiding now. Merlin scooted along the wall for all the good it would do. All he was doing was moving around, but he figured moving was better than sitting still, although he had no idea why. It wasn’t as if he’d taken a class on what to do if someone broke into your office to kill you. All in all, given the circumstances, Merlin thought he was doing pretty good considering. He had not passed out and he was not screaming. Thus far. Merlin knew there was still time for that.

“Arthur’s just got back and is in his father’s office; he’ll be here any second now, Cenred,” Merlin said with as much authority and conviction as he could muster. He knew it was a hopeless ploy, but he had to do something. He wouldn’t give in to this monster. If he was about to die, he was going to go down fighting.

“Is he now? Funny how I’ve just come from dear Daddy Pendragon’s office and neither he nor his son were there. Unless he’s suddenly acquired the ability to appear out of thin air, I think it safe to say your dear Arthur will not come to your rescue, Merlin.”

“What do you want?” Merlin asked, not caring in the least, but he had to keep the other talking.

Cenred laughed his wicked laugh and shook his head as if chastising a child. “What do I want? Oh, Merlin, do you really need to ask? You were such a pretty little thing the other night, with your lush lips and those pouty eyes. You wanted me so badly then. I could see it in your eyes, yet you denied yourself, so I’m here to give you what you wanted. It’s the least I could do, wouldn’t you agree?” Cenred laughed again. “Oh, and I guess I’m also here because I’ve a score to settle with your boss, and what better way to do that than to defile his lover.”

“Bu—” Merlin started, but then stopped. What good would denying that he and Arthur were lovers do? Cenred didn’t seem too concerned about the truth, and Merlin wanted him to remain where he was, just inside the doorway. If he provoked him further, that might change.

“But what, my sweet? Did you not know that your bedmate called me the other day and told me to stay far away from you if I knew what was good for me? Did he not tell you that I had done time for murder? I felt sure he would warn you and tell you to stay far away from me. No? Hm, perhaps I was mistaken and he isn’t as enamoured with you as I thought. Pity, but it doesn’t matter either way, really, because I am here and he isn’t,” and Cenred began moving toward Merlin, that sinister grin looking more and more evil the closer he got.

Merlin had absolutely no idea what he should do. Could he still possibly talk Cenred out of this? Should he try? Or would it be best to stay quiet? Did talking help in these situations? Merlin swallowed and felt the huge lump in his throat as it seemed to grow with each passing second. He was frightened that he would make the wrong decision.

“You didn’t answer me, baby. Did your lover tell you that I had killed someone? Did he tell you to stay away from me?” he asked, getting closer by the second, the axe pointed towards the ground, its sharp head glistening.

All Merlin could do was nod. Things weren’t looking at all good for him. In a few seconds Cenred would be standing right in front of him and Merlin thought he was surely about to die. Despite his best efforts to rein in his emotions, the tears that were already running down his face burst forth with such force that he found it difficult to catch his breath. He felt weak. But then again, how was anyone not supposed to cry when faced with death?

“Why the tears, baby? I’ll treat you really really good,” Cenred said as he made the final few strides to reach Merlin in what seemed like less than a second. He roughly grabbed one of Merlin’s hands.

Merlin, scared beyond anything he had ever thought possible, tried to pull his arm out of Cenred’s grip to no avail and was jerked forward across the room to his work desk that he rarely used, which was opposite his computer desk. Cenred roughly dragged him round to the other side and pushed him down so he was bent over, his face banging into a stack of papers with a loud thump.

“Please don’t,” Merlin pleaded as he fought against Cenred and tried to get free, “Please let me go,” but he understood that his wishes were falling on deaf ears. His sobs were such that he could barely speak, but Merlin didn’t care. How dare this person come into his office and do this to him. “You won’t get away with this,” he shouted as his face was again shoved down onto the desk.

“You beg so prettily, my sweets, but don’t you know that when you beg, all it does it turn me on more? Now listen to what I have to say because your very life might depend on it. You need to strip your lower half. I don’t care about the top; you can leave it or take it off, it matters little to me, but I want your lower half naked and back in the position I have you in now. You have thirty seconds.”

All the blood ran out of Merlin’s face and he felt cold, maybe colder than he’d ever felt before. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Of course, it was, but Merlin just couldn’t believe it. His mother was constantly telling him to be careful, and Arthur—well, he never let an opportunity pass him by to tell Merlin how unobservant he was and that it could get him into trouble one day if he wasn’t careful.

A bit too late to appreciate the prat’s advice now, Merlin thought bitterly as he tried to decide what to do. He couldn’t see a way out, but he did know with certainty that if he did what Cenred asked, he was giving in and that could very well be the end of him. Perhaps it would be best to do as he was told—rape was not as bad as death, right? But to Merlin, it was worse than death. Or so it seemed. Perhaps not in reality, but it was the stubborn boy in him who had always had to struggle for everything he had that was yelling for him to not give in. Yes, he might end up dead, but at this moment Merlin was at peace with that. Maybe not when the axe was pointing at him and about to end his life, but at this moment…

“No,” Merlin said matter-of-factly.

Cenred let out another sinister laugh and leaned in close enough that Merlin could feel his breath on him. “No? Boy, do you know what I did to end up in prison?”

Merlin didn’t respond. The reality of everything crashed down on him and he suddenly didn’t want to die. But neither did he want to be raped. His breathing sped up and he could feel the panic as it rose up through his body. He began to shake his head and sobs wracked his body so much so that he couldn’t catch his breath. He could see and hear Cenred laughing at him, which, of course made Merlin cry harder. He just wanted to go home.

“I think, Merlin, that I have given you ample time to do as I said, but my patience is running thin. You have a minute to decide, boy.”

What should he do? Merlin wished he knew. If he wanted to live, there was only one choice he had, although giving in didn’t assure that his life would be spared, did it?

Merlin’s stomach was protesting and he thought he would surely be sick as he stood up straight and his trembling hands went to his trousers and found the button, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t undo it. He looked at Cenred, who was looking at him like a piece of meat—the gleam in his eyes was scarier than anything Merlin had ever seen before.

Merlin closed his eyes and again tried to undo the button. It gave way and he began to undo his zip, his hands shaking so badly that he had almost no control, when he heard a loud crash at the door. He opened his eyes and watched in wonder as Arthur came bursting through like the prince he wasn’t but very much looked like at the moment. He held something in his hand. Merlin guessed it was a gun or maybe a knife, but he couldn’t be sure. All he could think about as he watched Arthur wrestle with and yell at Cenred was how close he’d come to something really terrible happening to him, and that he would never be able to adequately repay Arthur.

As Arthur continued to _address_ and deal with Cenred, Merlin quickly fastened his zip and button and backed up against the wall where he slid down.

Arthur had come to the rescue.

There was scuffling, another unfamiliar voice, and further words exchanged, but Merlin didn’t look or pay attention. All he could think about was how close he had come to…

He needed to see his mother.

Sometime later, and Merlin had no idea how much time had passed, he felt someone touching him. He jerked back and shook his head, but then he heard Arthur’s familiar voice.

“Merlin, it’s me, Arthur. Cenred‘s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

 _Arthur_. Merlin tried to calm down, but he was so freaked out and near the breaking point that he didn’t think calming down would be possible. If not for Arthur…

“Merlin, could you look at me? It’s okay; he can’t hurt you. I promise,” Arthur said, his voice calm and soft.

Merlin slowly lifted his head and focused on Arthur, who was kneeling in front of him, looking him over with concern, probably trying to see if he’d been hurt. “He didn’t do anything,” Merlin said in barely more than a whisper, then amended, “you came in before he could.” He wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve and took several deep breaths before continuing, knowing that what he’d said wasn’t at all true—Cenred _had_ done something to him that would forever change him—but Merlin needed Arthur to know that he hadn’t been raped, because that was what Arthur was probably thinking. It’s what anyone would think.

Arthur reached out and touched Merlin’s face. His fingers traced the bump that Merlin had got as he was pushed down against the desk. “He hit you. That bloody fucker.” Arthur shook his head. “Are you physically okay? Do I need to take you to hospital?” As Arthur asked, he continued to caress Merlin’s face.

“Just a bump on the head and a few bruises. Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” Merlin shrugged his shoulders, but closed his eyes and sighed when he remembered he hadn’t met the deadline. “I didn’t get to send the document. I had it almost finished when…” Merlin couldn’t finish the sentence.

Arthur helped Merlin stand and walked him over to sit him on his chair before settling on the edge of the computer desk and letting out a mirthless chuckle. “Do you really think I give a fuck about that? Hell, you could have been killed, Merlin. He had an axe in his hand. Oh my god,” Arthur said, his voice rising. “That sorry bastard is going to wish he’d never been born when I finish with him. What were you thinking being up here tonight all alone? What have I told you about working up here so late at night, especially this week? You knew he was dangerous, Merlin, yet here you are.” Arthur stood and paced the room, looking agitated. “You could have been killed,” he whispered.

“Yes, I am aware of that fact, Arthur,” Merlin said facetiously, anger and hurt bubbling inside of him. It was his life that had been threatened, after all. Of course it had been his fault. He brought this all on himself. Merlin glared at Arthur, and all at once everything that had happened came crashing down on him. He brought his fist down on the keyboard, not caring that he’d probably broken it.

He should have known that Arthur would blame him for this. How foolish he’d been to think his boss actually cared and worried about his wellbeing. Arthur had never cared and never would. All he was worried about was the bottom line, and that certainly didn’t include Merlin. “Yes, well, I had to send off that packet before the deadline, didn’t I?” Merlin spouted off, hurt and anger in his voice as he stood and walked towards the cupboard to get his coat and scarf so he could leave. He couldn’t stand being in this room for one minute more and the thought of listening to Arthur berate him was too much.

“I’ll drive you home,” Arthur said as he put out his arm to halt Merlin’s movement. He walked past Merlin to retrieve Merlin’s coat and scarf, and handed them to him. “You are too shaken to take the train.”

Merlin let out a derisive laugh. Too shaken? Well, if that wasn’t the understatement of a lifetime. He wanted so very much to decline Arthur’s offer, but he wouldn’t. He’d be lucky to make it down the lift by himself in the state he was in, so, he begrudgingly nodded. He would have Arthur take him to his mother’s house. She always knew what to do when her son was hurting.

He put on his coat and tied the scarf around his neck, then went to put his computer to sleep, but he stopped as he saw the words looking back at him. He wanted to push delete and get rid of the reason he had nearly been raped and killed, but that would be the end of his job if he did and he really needed the work (and money), even if he and his boss didn’t get on. Merlin saved the file (the keys on the keyboard were sticking after its encounter with its owner’s fist, but it still worked). When he turned to go, Arthur was gazing at him with a sorrowful look on his face. It was a look Merlin never wanted to see again.

“You wouldn’t have been up here late tonight had I not sent those edits just this afternoon. I’m sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said, and he looked properly apologetic.

Merlin didn’t trust himself to say anything, so he could only nod. Wonders never cease. Arthur Pendragon had apologized.

A few swallows later, Merlin thought he should thank Arthur. Yes, he was a royal arse, but he had saved his employee’s life, hadn’t he? “Thanks for responding to my e-mail or text, Arthur,” he said, gratitude in his voice and on his mind. If not for him…

Arthur looked at Merlin oddly and shook his head. “What?” he asked, looking confused. “I didn’t get a text or e-mail from you.” Arthur’s eyes then bulged.

Merlin had heard the expression about people’s faces turning white but he’d never seen it until now. “What? Yo—”

“Oh god. Shit,” Arthur said as he blinked. He sat down in a nearby chair and looked at his balled up fists in his lap. After several deep breaths, he looked back up at Merlin. “You told me soon after you came to work for me that you called your mother every night at ten to check on her before she went to bed. I called her the other night because I was concerned about you staying at the office late. I asked her to call me if you ever failed to call her.”

Arthur then stood and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “Shit.”

Merlin was shaking. What was he to say to that? What _was_ there to say? He had resented Arthur’s constant nagging about safety and staying late at the office, and had replied repeatedly that he was a grown man and could take care of himself. He had told his boss to mind his own business.

What if Arthur _had_ minded his own business? Merlin shook his head. “My mother called you and that’s why you’re here.” It was too much to take, really. Merlin turned around and tried to rein in his emotions, but he felt the tears beginning to fall again.

Throughout Merlin’s life he’d felt alone, as if it were him against the world. His mother had been the only one who’d believed in him and cared.

Or so it had seemed.

Arthur had gone out of his way to show that he cared for his employee and Merlin didn’t know what to do about that. He had thought Arthur hated him and only tolerated him because their parents had been friends at university.

Once Merlin felt in control of his emotions, he turned back to face Arthur. “Thank you.” He thought thank you was too weak a response to what Arthur had done for him, but at the moment thank you was all Merlin had. But when Arthur smiled weakly and gave a curt nod, Merlin thought perhaps it was enough for the moment. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked hesitantly as he scratched the back of his neck, feeling out of his depth.

“Yes,” Arthur said, and he looked equally unsure of himself.

Merlin wondered how he had gotten it so wrong. Arthur looked and sounded completely different than he usually did. It was odd for Merlin to witness, but it shed some light on Arthur. Perhaps Merlin had got it all wrong. Maybe Arthur didn’t actually hate Merlin, and maybe he wasn’t the enemy that Merlin had made him out to be.

“Why?” he asked. “I’m just a nobody. You’re not responsible for me. Why take an interest?” It was a foreign concept for Merlin to accept that anyone would want to help him, even if his mother had told him that people were generally good and helpful. Thus far in life, Merlin hadn’t seen that.

At this, Arthur rolled his eyes, which was very much the boss Merlin had come to know. “Come now, Merlin, you may give off an air of aloofness and innocence, but surely you cannot be that oblivious,” he said, but there was a question in his expression.

“You just saved my fucking life, Arthur. I thought you hated me, so I think my question is a fair one.” Merlin waited impatiently for an answer and his face fell when Arthur let out a small chuckle. Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when Arthur put up a hand.

“You, Merlin, are a computer genius, have an encyclopedic mind, are more organized than anyone I’ve ever known, and keep me in line when no one else has ever been able to, but you are complete shit when it comes to reading people, let me tell you. If you wo—”

Merlin put up a hand. “Stop it right there. I asked you a question. I didn’t ask for you to tell me off. Buck up and answer.” Merlin crossed his arms and glared as he waited.

“Why do people generally look out for others, Merlin? And why do you think I would go to such extremes to ensure your safety? Do you think I do that for everyone?”

Once again, Arthur was evading the question by asking questions of his own. If he would onl— And then an idea so mental that it made Merlin almost laugh entered his mind. He shook his head because the mere thought was completely preposterous. He pointed at Arthur and then at himself and shook his head. “No, you can’t. That’s completely mental. No,” he repeated, thinking that he had surely got the wrong end of the stick. But what if? What if Morgana had been right? What if Arthur _did_ have a thing for him? Merlin couldn’t believe it, but just maybe… “Morgana was telling the truth about you?” he asked, still unable to believe that this could maybe be true.

“Well, I am sure Morgana has told you many things about me, Merlin, but I won’t be an arse about it. I know what you are speaking of, and the answer is yes.”

Merlin couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. He was surely in the midst of a dream, and at any moment his stupid alarm would go off and ruin everything.

“You really had no idea,” Arthur said, not asking a question. When Merlin shook his head, Arthur huffed, and a hint of a laugh broke through. “Yes, I like you, you idiot. I more than like you,” he added before taking a huge breath and looking unsure of himself.

Merlin looked at Arthur before looking away and wondering if this was really his life. “You don’t exactly treat me as if you like me, Arthur, so how in hades was I to think you might actually have feelings for me?” he asked as he again looked Arthur in the eyes. “You certainly have a weird way of showing that.” Merlin was really having one hell of a moment. It was enough to turn his world all askew.

“Yes, well, Merlin, I never was good at doing the relationship thing. I’m defensive, I guess, but I _do_ like you. I know I’m pants at showing it, but I want to have more with you. Okay, there. I said it,” he said as he threw up his hands and looked at Merlin questioningly.

Most everything in Merlin told him to turn and walk out of the office. He had no business entertaining such a notion. Arthur and he were worlds apart. For the past however long he had worked for Arthur, he had resented his boss and done his best to keep his distance. But as much as he told himself to turn and walk away, to never look back, Merlin remained where he was. People like him perhaps got once chance in life to be truly happy, and if he allowed this one to pass him by, well, then he was the fool, wasn’t he?

Having made the rather momentous decision that he was going to try this relationship thing with Arthur, Merlin wanted to throw himself into Arthur’s arms and never let go, but that was the romantic side of him—the part of him that cried when Mary and Matthew finally got their shit together and realised they were better together than apart. This situation, however, was perhaps the most important that Merlin had faced in a very long while, and he had to be level-headed about it. And there were questions he needed answered.

Gwen. What about Gwen?

According to _everyone_ (other than Morgana), Gwen and Arthur were on the fast track to engagement, marriage, and popping out several mini-Arthur’s to carry on the family name and business.

The only reason they hadn’t already married was because Gwen’s father had got himself in a spot of trouble in the States—something about stealing gold. It was hushed up around the office, but if one opened the rags they were sure to see Tom Smith’s picture plastered on page one or six. Gwaine and Leon, two of Arthur’s associates, were convinced that Uther would put an end to his son’s relationship, but thus far he hadn’t, and Merlin wondered if he would.

But maybe he had. Perhaps that was why Arthur was now so free with his thoughts and emotions.

Whatever the case, Merlin wasn’t stupid. He might have always secretly fantasized about having Arthur to himself, but as much an idealist as Merlin was in everything else, he was a realist when it came to his relationships and he just didn’t see Arthur wanting him. Ever. And, he reminded himself, Arthur had been a real arse to him.

“So what about Gwen?” He asked casually, not knowing any other way to bring up the subject. In the past he had been admonished when asking about Gwen—Arthur had said she was none of Merlin’s business and that he had more important things to do than to engage in mindless gossip. But times had obviously changed and there was no way in hell Merlin was letting Arthur get out of answering.

A few sighs, deep breaths, and glances around the room later, Arthur returned his attention to Merlin. “Remember that bloke Lancelot who came over to give that presentation a few months ago? The really good looking one that Elena and Mithian were all a flutter over and wondering how many hours a day he worked out?” Arthur rolled his eyes.

Merlin wanted to laugh. Arthur knew very well that he remembered. It had been him, after all, on Arthur’s orders, who had taken Lancelot to lunch that first day. All the females in the building had been jealous. Arthur had been out of town with Gwen. They’d returned that evening, but before then it had been Merlin who’d had the pleasure of showing the lovely Lancelot around the facilities and city, and he had enjoyed every second of it; it wasn’t every day that he was asked to entertain someone so handsome, who actually spoke and enjoyed what Merlin had to say. To say that Merlin had regretted it when Arthur took over the duties of hosting Lancelot would be an understatement. But to his credit, Lancelot had looked just as disappointed when Merlin left and had given him a huge grin and wink—a wink that Merlin’s imagination had taken him to places it had no business going, such as a clandestine meeting at midnight on the roof of the castle on the outskirts of Camelot where they would make mad, passionate love.

Well, a boy could dream, right?

Merlin smirked and made sure Arthur had his undivided attention. “Wasn’t he the bloke I was having dinner with when you so eloquently interrupted our conversation and told me that my duties for the day were done and that I could leave?” Merlin put on a huge fake grin then replaced it with a sneer. He still was not over that one.

Arthur had to have known exactly what he was doing when he did that. He had relished it. Now, Merlin was doing the same as he waited for Arthur’s answer. Arthur had asked Merlin to leave out of spite, and Merlin, while he was contemplating entering into a relationship with the prat across from him, would not allow him to forget that he hadn’t played fair that night.

The blush that crept up Arthur’s neck and face was adorable. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, and yet Merlin continued to stare. He was enjoying this, perhaps too much.

“Erm, yes?” Arthur sputtered out, looking properly chastised. “About that, I’m sorry. I knew that was vastly unfair of me, but seeing you and him together, looking so comfortable and cozy—well, yeah, I just couldn’t deal with it. Gwen nearly broke it off with me then and there for doing that to you; she was furious.” And it was obvious he was still affected by that because his face had gone from pink to pale in a matter of seconds.

Well, well, Merlin thought, not sure how to continue. Arthur was one surprise after the other. “She had every right to be, as did I, Arthur. Do you know how hard it is for me to meet anyone I can talk to without feeling as if I am on trial?” he asked, pointedly glaring, wanting Arthur to get the message. “Lancelot made me feel like I could do or say anything and it was okay. It was a nice feeling, but then you had to come and ruin it all. And it’s not like I knew it was because you had this little crush on me, because you certainly never let on about that, did you?” Merlin was perhaps speaking much louder than was needed, and Arthur’s pale face seemed to be getting paler. He looked properly chastised, which he well should, Merlin thought as everything that had gone down with Lancelot resurfaced, bringing back all those inadequacies he’d always felt.

“I’m sorry, Merlin. I fucked up. I knew it was wrong, but if you only knew,” Arthur said, before he began pacing the floor. “But that’s neither here nor there. Regardless of why I did what I did, Lancelot and Gwen hit it off. It didn’t happen overnight, of course, but it didn’t take long for them to realise that they were a better match than Gwen and I ever were. They’re to be married in six months.”

Oh. Merlin swallowed. “And how do you feel about this? And the truth, please,” he amended, noting the surprised look on Arthur’s face at being asked such. Once upon a time, Merlin had gotten himself in trouble in school with his mouth—but as an adult he had buried that tendency away. That it was choosing now to assert itself once again was somewhat heartening to Merlin. Who knew all he needed was a prat named Arthur to rekindle that fire within him that had once burned brightly.

“My my, Merlin, it seems that meek boy who came to work for my father has grown up. Well done, you,” he said, seriously, a look of what could have been pride on his face. “My pride was hurt, of course,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair, one of his nervous habits that Merlin was well aware of. “It was a blow to know that Gwen had found someone else. I thought there was no possible way she no longer wanted me—don’t say anything to that, Merlin—” he said, glaring. “But when we finally talked about her and Lancelot, she said that she’d always known that she and I would never work, and that it was time for me to stop hiding behind my mask. She said I had long been in love with someone else.” At this he stopped and studied Merlin for several seconds. “Yeah, you don’t have to look quite so smug, Merlin,” but there was little bite in the comment.

“Not smug, Arthur, just surprised,” and it was the truth. It was a lot to take in.

“Yes, well, as I was about to say,” Arthur continued, “she told me that if I wanted to be truly happy, there was only one person who could help me.” Arthur stuck his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. “You. She told me to come to you and admit my feelings and to stop playing games. I denied it, of course. As far as I could tell you hated me, and how could I possibly be in love with someone I didn’t even really know? And then there was Gwen. I was in love with her, so how could I be in love with you? She actually laughed at that, which didn’t go down too well as you can well imagine. She told me I didn’t really know what love was, but that if I let you in that you would help teach me,” and it was obvious by the rolling eyes that this part was not one of the bits that Arthur had taken to heart.

Merlin chuckled. “Me? Teach you about love? That’s erm, yeah, really not going to happen. I’m afraid your Gwen doesn’t know me at all,” he said as he again laughed, but when he watched the frown increasing on Arthur’s face he decided maybe Arthur was a tad bit more sensitive than he’d thought. “Not that I’m against us learning together, mind, just don’t expect me to teach you anything,” and Merlin was having a hard time trying to balance being serious yet not too serious at the same time. “So what changed?” he asked, thinking he was prying too much, but he was curious.

“Slowly, over this past month, I’ve realised that what Gwen told me was true. It was a harsh realisation to know that my ex knew me better than I did, but I had to come to terms with it, and I did. Then I almost lost you tonight, Merlin. I can’t even… I just can’t imagine you not being here with me. I know I’ve fucked up and that you have every right to walk out and never turn back, but please, just give me a chance.”

It was painfully obvious to Merlin that Arthur was struggling—he looked like a little boy who’d just found out Father Christmas wasn’t real—and it made Merlin want to kiss away that frown and turn it into a smile, but he couldn’t. Not yet. It wasn’t fair to himself or to Arthur for Merlin to say yes after such a traumatic night. He needed to go home and think. _Really_ think. Saying yes to Arthur was much more than a word or a night or a week or even a month. Saying yes to Arthur could very well be forever, and Merlin had to be sure he was ready.

Well, he already knew he was; there was no question about that. But Merlin thought it only right to wait a few days to let everything sink in before he made his answer official. He looked into Arthur’s eyes and could sense the uncertainty there. It was so very unusual to see that look on Arthur, who was normally so sure of himself, but Merlin was beginning to understand that he had got it all wrong about Arthur.

His boss and whatever else he might soon be wasn’t an enemy. He wasn’t someone who hated Merlin. He wasn’t someone who didn’t care. He wasn’t cold or unfeeling. He was probably every bit as scared and unsure of himself as Merlin was; Arthur Pendragon just had a very powerful family and business to hide behind. These new realisations made all the difference in the world and made Merlin want to take Arthur in his arms and tell him that they could do this thing called life together, now.

He cleared his throat and smiled, hoping to allay some of Arthur’s fears. “Take me to my mum’s. I know she’ll want to thank you. I can’t talk to you tonight about us being more—you just most likely saved my life and I am more than a little shaken up and am a mess, but we’ll talk in a few days, yeah?”

Arthur nodded, but it was obvious he was disappointed. Merlin felt bad. Though he wouldn’t do anything drastic until he was in a better place mentally, maybe he could at least give Arthur some small indication that he did want this, just not now.

He walked across the room and took Arthur’s hands in his. “Do you honestly think I’m going to tell you that I don’t want this? If you think that, Arthur Pendragon, then you don’t know me at all. All I’m asking for is a few days to wrap my mind around what almost happened tonight and what you’ve told me. It’s a lot.” Merlin needed for Arthur to understand.

Arthur looked up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. “I cannot believe I almost lost you. Take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.” He then looked at Merlin and cleared his throat. “I know I’ve been dismissive of you and your thoughts in the past, but never again.”

Merlin didn’t know how to respond; he could hardly believe this was happening. All of it: Cenred. Arthur. It was all surreal; not at all how he had envisioned his evening going. “Y-You could kiss me if you want. It’s probably not a good idea as I’m still all over the place emotionally, but those lips of yours have featured in far too many of my dreams and I don’t think I could wait another moment to have them on me.” And then he smiled. There was so much that he didn’t have figured out about life, but what he did know was that he wanted to give this thing with Arthur a go.

Arthur smiled back before pulling Merlin to him and closing the space between them. The kiss, which began chastely, deepened quickly, but Arthur slowly pulled away before touching his and Merlin’s foreheads together.

Merlin didn’t move for several seconds. What had been the worst night of his life was still fresh in his mind and it would take time to deal with it, but with Arthur, Merlin knew he would get through it. With that thought he pulled back and headed towards the door. “Yeah, if you think I’m giving up more of that in the future, you’re fucking mental.”


End file.
